


keep an eye for storms

by birdhymns



Series: run from what you knew [4]
Category: Pokemon GO
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdhymns/pseuds/birdhymns
Summary: The past dogs your feet.





	

Spark and Candela become semi-frequent visitors to you in your lab, alongside a steady stream of recruits looking for your opinion. You eventually create a schedule, so the number of people wanting to see you doesn’t become a hazard… and you have a few hours to work uninterrupted.

Your fellow team leaders show only relative regard for it, nip at the edges of the time you set to talk, tell you to take a break, and sometimes just waltz in to watch you work.

Spark asks a lot a questions, about this step, the purpose of that solvent. Candela is quieter by a degree, but you feel both their presences like rocks jutting up from a river, water frothing in an otherwise uninterrupted flow to accommodate.

Eventually Candela makes the point that it’s hard to lead when you’re glued to a lab desk all the time, and you have to admit its validity.

…Though how that led to you shopping, watching her and Spark talk breeding and training techniques between stores, you’re not entirely sure.

“I dunno, Can. I feel like shoring up and going for balanced overall growth is better.”

“Well it works, yeah, but if you play to strengths for each and just keep your team balanced, then it works out!” She shoots him a grin. “Besides, it doesn’t matter how balanced your Pokémon is if I can just send it back in two hits.”

Spark shifts his share of the bags to one hand and raps Candela’s shoulder. “That was one time.”

She cackles, unapologetic. Then she turns her eyes on you. “What do you think Blanche? What should a Trainer aim for?”

You roll the thought around for a few moments. “Somewhere between. A Trainer can best identify strengths and weaknesses. For me, it’s the Trainer’s responsibility to handle both, predict the sort of scenarios they might be in and respond accordingly… if a Pokémon can’t adapt because of rigid thinking, it’s not on them.”

Candela hums. “A diplomatic answer.”

Despite the lack of aggression in her tone, you have to fight to keep defensiveness from your expression. “Something wrong with that?”

“What? No.” She shoots you a bemused look. “I was just thinking it’s very… science paper-y, your answer. ‘Topic sentence’ sort of thing.”

“I _am_ a researcher.”

“So you are. The academic look suits you. Very good for fighting Ekans.”

You don’t have time to respond because Spark hoots 'We’re here!’ without warning, and pulls you both into what looks like a housing complex. Spinning about, he gives you a grin. “Welcome,” he says, “to the Home.”

“The home?” You glance about, reprimand already forgotten. All you see is a desk, jacket thrown over the back of the chair behind it, an elevator, and a succulent sitting in the corner of the room. A fairly standard setup for a reception area. “I suppose there’s a reason for 'the’.”

“It’s kinda like an inn for Trainers and their teams sticking around a while. It’s how they keep running anyway. But we’re going downstairs.”

“And downstairs is…?”

Candela’s the one to answer as she calls the elevator. “What the Home’s really for. See, sometimes when police manage to get stolen Pokémon from Rocket, the Pokémon come back changed. If the original Trainer can be found, it helps, but sometimes they can’t come right away. Or don’t, and well… for a lot of folk, isn’t easy to just release Pokémon without trying to help.”

There’s the sense of something cinched around your lungs, but you ignore it, moving to lean against an elevator wall. “Pokémon therapy, then.”

“Exactly!” Spark bobs his head, pleased. “Me 'nd Can like to come out, bring some treats. Since you’re leader too now, it’s only right you get to join us! If you want, of course. But I think you’ll like it here.”

You arrived to people running in and out of sight, urgent shouts following behind. There’s a prickle down your spine; your eyes flick to the others. “Thought a home would be a bit more relaxed.”

They’re frowning. “It normally is.” Candela manages to pull someone from the intermittent stream of people. Jeanne, their name-tag reads. “What’s going on?”

“Ah, Leader Candela, Leader Spark–and Leader Blanche, yes?” You blink at the address, at being known even at here, but you manage a nod, and they smile politely despite stress around their eyes. “One of the new arrivals–we’re having trouble settling them down, have been for a while really–maybe you three could assist?”

“Course!” Spark’s fingers play at the edge of his jacket as you all follow Jeanne down the hall. “Mm, what kind of Pokémon?”

“A Gengar,” is the wry response, and you all wince in sympathy. You know very well what a Gengar can do when simply happy and playful. Handling one without its Trainer, after whatever Team Rocket put it through…

Your fingers twitched at your side. Someone would have to deal with the environment, possibly two people, and that would leave one to handle the Gengar–Vaporeon could lay down ice to freeze everything down. Hopefully the others had someone along to take care of the Gengar quickly.

It’s not hard to guess what room it is when Jeanne slows. There’s a half-dozen gathered around a door. When they see you–rather, see Spark and Candela–their faces light up, and they part to let you by. An elderly researcher gives a weary smile. “Careful, dears. Whoever raised this one them taught them to make good use of Thunder aside from the usual.”

Your insides freeze. You’re vaguely aware of the others nodding, so you work your hand open and closed. It’s an unusual move choice, but not unheard of. There wouldn’t be only one Gengar around with Thunder taught to it. Of course not.

It’s gotten quiet. Self-conscious, you shake yourself, shift your weight up and onto your toes, then back down. You raise your head.

You realise why it’s quiet. There are red eyes blinking in your face, mouth a small 'o’ of surprise.

Behind Gengar you can see books and files and cabinets floating in midair, bobbing in some created current. You’re vaguely aware of everyone staring. You feel two the most.

“Blanche.” Candela’s voice is surprisingly quiet, clearly restrained, as though a too-loud word would break the moment. “You know this Gengar?”

Before you can reply they let out a surprisingly childlike whoop, zooming around you in tight circles before diving into your shadow, cool at your feet.

You sigh mentally, and nod. “I do.”

"They… were, for a time, one of my team.”

**Author's Note:**

> To all the folk who've been patiently waiting--or forgotten this was a thing, hahaha--thank you for your kindnesses. It's been hell academically for me. But I hit reading week, and the urge to give a little life to all my stories has been banging about. Gotta go one step at a time though.
> 
> Sometimes I wonder how that whole 'your thesis is a snake’ metaphor started in the first place. But it’s amusing, so I usually don’t question it for long.
> 
> Also: I was confronted with the question of how do people gender a Gengar? It’s a ghost. So I just decided, 'nah’.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! I really appreciate everyone who leaves their thoughts.


End file.
